


Jadukora

by dish_chan



Series: Magic from the Valley [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Wizarding World of the United States of America
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dish_chan/pseuds/dish_chan
Summary: Zahrai was perfectly normal, thank you very much. She went to school, came home, fought with her little sister over whose turn it was to control the television remote, then prayed Asr when her mom reminded her and sister, when her father came home they’d all eat and pray Maghrib, did her homework, and went to bed. Totally normal.Which is why on January 2nd, her eleventh birthday, when an old lady dressed in a really, really weird outfit came knocking on the door asking to speak to her and her parents, Zahrai was sure there was a mix-up.
Series: Magic from the Valley [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/308088
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Zahari discovers is not so normal and Sulema gives us a preview of her level of drama.

Zahrai was perfectly normal, thank you very much. She went to school, came home, fought with her little sister over whose turn it was to control the television remote, then prayed Asr when her mom reminded her and sister, when her father came home they’d all eat and pray Maghrib, did her homework, and went to bed. Totally normal.

Which is why on January 2nd, her eleventh birthday, when an old lady dressed in a really, _really_ weird outfit came knocking on the door asking to speak to her and her parents, Zahrai was sure there was a mix-up.

“Why does she want to talk to you?” Zahrai’s younger sister, Sulema called as Zahrai took the stairs two at a time.

“Like I would know.” Zahrai tilted her head back to stick her tongue out at Sulema, whose head was still tiny enough to stick through the railing at the top of the stairs.

“But I don’t want to stay up here!” Her high voice hit a particularly whiny pitch as their mother walked back into the foyer.

“You will stay up there until we call you down.” Amma said sternly, while her fingers trailed absentmindedly over Zahrai’s polo fixing the collar and then smoothing her hair.

“It’s not ffffaaaaiiiiirr.” Sulema was now lying on her back at the top of the stairs.

“Life is not fair.” Amma said, her Bengali accent growing stronger as she lost her patience, “Now. Stay. Upstairs.”

“Fine.” Sulema rolled over and began to drag herself back to her room as Amma led Zahrai towards the dining room. They never used the dining room except during Eid and maybe Thanksgiving if everyone came to their house instead of their grandparents.

Inside the room, the older woman sat in one of the chairs close to the end. Her long pale gray hair spilled over her shoulders and on her clothes. Her clothes were the oddest thing about her, they were simple and looked like some strange hybrid between what Zahrai imagined Pocahontas would wear and a bathrobe.

“I apologize that your younger daughter cannot join us at first.” Zahrai started when she spoke, her voice sounding smooth although her smile seemed forced.

“She will understand later.” Appu said bringing in a tray of tea and setting it down on the table.

“Here, Zahrai, sit.” Amma pushed her towards the chair across from the woman and then sat on her right. Once Appu had finished pouring the tea and setting a cup in front of each person, he sat on Zahrai’s left.

“Thank you again for letting me on such an unexpected visit.” The lady took a sip of her tea and then reached for the sugar, “My name is Ingrid Page. I am the deputy director of Shenandoah Academy. I am here to let you know that your eldest daughter, Zahrai Khondakar, has been accepted for the upcoming academic year.”

Zahrai felt her parents exchange looks over her head before Appu slowly said, “I don’t believe we ever applied for Zahrai to go to school outside of Deerfield.”

“Ah, yes.” Ingrid Page set her tea cup down slowly and then looked at her parents before looking squarely at Zahrai, “Our school does not accept applications, admittance is . . . well, pre-selected shall we say.”

“And what is the condition for this ‘pre-selection’?” Amma’s voice was steely, reminding Zahrai of when she refused to stop reading and go to sleep.

“That the student exhibits magical talent.” Zahrai was almost certain Ingrid Page was joking, but the woman’s face was just as serious as her parents. “Zahrai has demonstrated a talent for magic that has been recorded by the United States Magical Congress. Have odd things not occurred around her at times when she is highly emotional?”

Zahrai squirmed in her seat. It’s not the Ingrid Page’s accusations were untrue that made her uncomfortable, it’s that they were. When she was five and didn’t want to go to school on her first day, the doors to the house had remained fully locked and the blinds and curtains would not be moved. When she was seven, she’d been furiously screaming at Sulema before she realized that her younger sister’s mouth was moving without sounds coming out. Sulema hadn’t been able to make a sound for a whole two days. Zahrai had taken to making duat and going with her father every week to Sunday school. It had helped, a little.

“Well . . .” Amma cast a look at Zahrai before looking at Ingrid Page, “you’re saying that Zahrai is magic?”

“Yes. Magic is generally a hereditary trait, however sometimes it can show up in families of non-magic users.” Ingrid Page brought her hands up and folded them on the table. “The Shenandoah Academy specializes in teaching their students how to control their magic in addition to the regular curriculum students would learn in any other school.” She pulled a thin stick out of her sleeve and waved it in the air. Several glossy pamphlets appears in front of Amma, Appu, and Zahrai. They looked exactly like any other magazine pictures Zahrai had seen. Several students laughing on the front of each pamphlet, the only thing that seemed to differ each one was the uniforms students wore. “Of course, Shenandoah Academy is not the only institution within the United States that offers an education for students with magical gifts.”

“There are more?” Appu seemed dazed as he picked up the top brochure that featured three students laughing, holding books while they walked somewhere in their different colored shirts and dark gray pants and skirts.

“Yes, the United States has seven institutions; the Shenandoah Academy for the Magically Gifted is the closest to your family – geographically. However on the East Coast, Salem, Massachusetts is the home of Salem College for Spellcraft.” Ingrid Page reached across and tapped a brochure that seemed to be colored mainly in black and red. “There is also the Black Hills Institute in South Dakota, the Hahjeénah School in New Mexico, the Texas Academy, Kitsgrove in Illinois, and Abernorth Conversatory in Washington state. Zahrai could apply to attend any of these schools.”

“When . . . how . . . this . . .” Appu trailed off looking at Amma in bewilderment.

“Do not worry, Mr. Khondakar, most families find this information overwhelming at first.” With another flick of her stick – wand, Zahrai’s mind distantly supplied – a thick packet appeared on top of the brochures. “Your family will have two months to review the information and decide what you all think would be best for Zahrai. However,” Ingrid Page leaned forward, “I will be placing a hex on this house and its inhabitants that in the event someone tries to speak of magic to anyone outside of the current occupants of this . . . house, you will be unable to form intelligible words. That would include you too, young one.” Ingrid Page’s eyes narrowed and Amma, Appu, and Zahrai turned to see Sulema freeze in the doorway.

“I see.” Amma said slowly before standing, “Thank you for visiting.”

Ingrid Page gave them all a placid smile and stood, “Of course. Please call me if you have any questions.” She slid her wand into her sleeve and pulled a business card out in its place before handing it to Amma.

“Yes, thank you.” Appu stood and walked with Ingrid Page to the door before exchanging one last pleasantry and shutting the door.

“Well,” Amma said turning to look at Zahrai still in her seat. “That was interesting.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein a professor finds a mentee and a student discovers in the world of magic, everything is bigger on the inside.

“Excuse me, Professor Williams?”

“Yes,” A tall woman stopped walking, her pale blue robes swishing at the sudden change in momentum. Turning she inspected the student who has spoken. One of her new yearlings, the name started with a Z, what was it again? “Zahari, I believe?”

“Yes, Professor.” The girl nodded looking like a nervous bobble head doll.

“What can I help you with?” Violet Williams turned to fully face the young girl, folding her hands in front of her robes. Her dark skin stood out dramatically against the fabric and her gold rings flashed in the dying sunlight.

“I was wondering . . . well, you see, it’s quite hard to find space on campus to pray.” The initial pause seemed to be overcome and then overrun with a torrent of words, “It’s really hard to get back to my dorm during the day to pray between classes or in spare time after lunch and still be on time to my next class. And I’ve tried using the library on occasion, Dr. Moore doesn’t mind, I don’t think, but it’s still so far from the history classroom. And even if I get used to trying to find space to pray this year, my schedule will change next year and I just don’t know if I’ll be able to find spaces that work. And-“

“Breathe.” Violet raised an eyebrow and tried to not roll her eyes. She’d forgotten, after two years of being off yearling rotation and then the year before that her yearlings had all but been grown-ups, how overexcited and overanxious year ones could be. “You’re saying you need a prayer space on campus? Is that correct?”

“Yes, Professor. One space is fine, but one room in each building would be best.” Zahari’s dark eyes reminded Violet of her cat when it wanted a treat. Wide-eyed feign innocence – well, maybe with this year one the innocence wasn’t so feigned.

“I see. And there are no such designated spaces on campus?”

“No. Not that I know of. I talked to a few other kids in the upper years who also practice and they said there isn’t a space they know of. That’s why I went to the library, that’s what they suggested.” Zahari seemed to rock back on her heels with a frown, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable praying the library all the time. It can be noisy . . . for a library.”

“Indeed. And you haven’t even seen it during finals.” Violet’s mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. “Well, this seems like a problem that needs to be corrected. I would like you to write up a proposal of where these rooms for prayer-“

“Prayer rooms.” Zahari’s dark skin flushed, “Uh, that’s what they’re normally called, ‘prayer rooms.’”

“I see. Well, a proposal for where these prayer rooms should be located throughout campus.” Violet continued raising a single eyebrow to deter further interruptions. “Once you’ve finished this proposal, please bring it to me and we can discuss it in further detail. Talk to Ms Yearly or Mr. Rawling in the Administrative House to set up a meeting.”

“Uh, okay. Yes, Professor Williams. Thank you!” Again with the bobble head nodding, this time with a tentative smile.

+++

“Zahari Khondakar to see you Dr. Williams.” Julia Yearly said while knocking and opening her office door.

“Thank you, Julia. You can send her back.” Violet smiled politely at the young woman and shuffled the papers of her Healing I students’ essays off the top of her desk. While listening with a half an ear to Julia give the year one student directions down the curved hallway that led to teacher offices, she rummaged through her desk to find the map of the school she had stashed after her initial talk with Zahari.

Violet had identified several locations on campus that could potentially be freed up for prayer rooms. Most of them were broom closets that the janitorial staff or house elves rarely used and so could be tidied up and expanded with a few good extension charms. But she wanted to see what Zahari thought was reasonable, perhaps Violet was overlooking something that would be obvious to someone who prayed outside of their own rooms and the chapel on the grounds.

“Good afternoon, Professor Williams.” Zahari came to view in the doorway, the afternoon light from Violet’s office window hitting her face at the perfect angle to temporarily blind her.

“Good afternoon, Zahari. Please come in and have a seat.” The small girl walked in and closed the door behind her. Violet’s office faced the southwestern part of the Academy’s campus and as such received the afternoon light – much to her plants delight. Her office was spacious enough for a large desk, two filing cabinets, two large bookcases that flanked a fireplace that had access to both the school floo network and restricted access to the greater Eastern United States Floo Network (EUS-Floo). In front of the desk were two high back chairs, while another sat directly to the right of the doorway (one never knew exactly how many students one needed to scold in a single go).

“Thank you meeting with me again.” Zahari said after she had settled in the blue chair on the left side of her desk.

“Of course. I was the one who suggested you meet with me after you’d written your proposal. Anything less would have been rude and unbecoming of a Yearling Head.” Violet looked at her closely, “Do not let other professors or yearling heads allow you to think that your time is any less valuable than theirs. And do not let anyone who suggests a further step renege on that step just because it might inconvenience them.” Violet paused, “That is not to say that this or you are an inconvenience Zahari, but I believe that you and your fellow classmates may have proposals or ideas that some may view as inconvenient in the future.”

“Ah,” Zahari paused her brown skin flushing, “Thank you, Professor Williams. I will remember that.”

“See that you do.” Violet gave her a small smile, “Now, you arranged this meeting because you had finished your proposal for prayer rooms on campus, yes?”

“Yes!” Zahari seemed to come to life as she reached down into her book bag and pulled out a folder. “I found a few unused classrooms around campus that I thought were convenient. And I talked with some of the upper years who pray pretty regularly to make sure they were convenient for everybody and not just myself.”

“Let’s see then.” Violet held out her hand for the folder and once she had it in had was surprised at the weight. Opening the folder she found a cover page, followed by a table of contents, and followed by a list of consulted materials, before pausing and looking up at Zahari, “This is very thorough. Indeed more thorough than I’d anticipate for a year one student. Do you have experience in writing proposals?”

“Ah,” Zahari’s skin flushed even darker, “No. Not really, but my parents put together loads of proposals for their hospitals’ boards all the time so I just . . . kinda . . . copied how they do it?”

“I see.” Violet murmured looking through the four or five written pages of reasoning and arguments to have permanent prayer rooms available. “And what do your parents do, Zahari?”

“My mom’s a psychiatrist and my dad’s general practioner, but he’s starting to move to mostly teaching.” Zahari’s eyes sparkled with pride and smiled widely at Violet. Violet graced her with a smile in return.

“And they have no issue with you being magical?” Her question posed casually as she looked at the campus maps Zahari had included – complete with time stamps of an average travel time between buildings.

“I think so. I think they’re more nervous because they don’t know what to expect. Mom bought probably half the bookstore in Opperand when we went school shopping. I think she might have sent letters to Professor Page as well to get more information.” Zahari shrugged seemingly unconcerned, “They both just want me to do well in school and not get into trouble. I don’t think they really care _what_ school as long as I can go to college and get a good job afterwards.”

Practical. Violet liked to keep a closer eye on her muggleborn students in their year one. And then in year four and seven when the national standardized testing approached. The exam years were particularly distressing for even those students who grew up hearing tales of their misery; muggleborn students were significantly less equipped to handle the stress the standardized tests brought in year four and seven. It seemed Zahari was adjusting well, though Violet would find other excuses to check in on her throughout the year. It was convenient that the girl had dropped this little project and opportunity in her lap.

“That seems reasonable. As long as you are attentive to your studies and your behavior, I do not forsee any issue with admission to universities after you complete your time at the Academy.” Violet closed the folder leaving out the maps Zahari had clearly, painstakingly drawn and charmed to be to scale. “Also, I must commend you on the charm work on these maps. They require quite a lot of skill that is often difficult for a year one student to master.”

“Ah,” Another flush, “Thank you, Professor.”

“You are quite welcome. Now, there are a few issues with the classrooms you have selected – as they may currently not be in use but they could be as soon as next semester or later on.” Violet pulled out her own map. “I have marked several closets on here that can be expanded and repurposed for the sole use of a prayer room.”

“A closet?” Zahari looked appalled. “I don’t . . . er Professor that is-“

“Ah, I am sorry, Zahari. I realize that came off . . . callous.” Violet put down the map. “Let me take a step back for a moment; have you ever really looked at say, the Potions Building? Closely?”

“Ah, I don’t . . . Maybe? I don’t think so?” Her face scrunched in puzzlement.

“Come to the window.” Violet stood and smoothed her pale pink robes down and took the few steps over the window waiting for Zahari to join her.

Violet’s window overlooked the Potions Building next door, and further on the Scyamore Building which housed the charms and transfiguration classrooms. And beyond those the quidditch pitch and even further the river that blocked the large Shenandoah forest from encroaching on the campus.

“Now, look at the Potions Building.” The building itself wasn’t any special, a large gray structure built in the collegiate gothic style that so many schools magical or mundane favored. It also was, to borrow the phrase from a British television, much bigger on the inside. “The Potions building has three floors, plus the basement. Each floor has five classrooms and two laboratories.”

“Okay.” Zahari looked up at Violet and then back at the building, “How do they all fit? The building isn’t big enough.”

“You are correct.” Violet smiled softly, “The labs themselves are actually there, as is one classroom on each floor. The rest are closets that have been expanded as we’ve needed more space with the school’s population growing.”

“Oh.” She said a small frown twinging between her eyebrows. “So a prayer room from an expanded closet is just . . . the way the school makes enough space.”

“Exactly.” Violet moved back to her own chair and Zahari followed. “I did not intend to insult you or seem callous about your need for adequate prayer rooms, but this is how our school makes space when needed. The charms needed to expand a closet in such a magical space are quite extensive and require not only significant amount of theoretical knowledge they require a very strong, almost fully developed magical core.

“We rarely ever, decommission, for lack of a better term, a classroom back to a closet as well. Taking these rooms out once they been put in affects the wards and way the school functions as a semi-sentient magical place.” Zahari was staring at her with wide eyes. “By using a closet that has not yet been expanded we will be able to have more flexibility over the size of the room, what it contains, what it functions for that simply trying to fit the square peg of a prayer room into the round hole an already existing classroom.”

“Oh. O-okay.” Stumbling through the words Zahari looked like she was desperately trying to absorb all the information Violet was tossing her way. She smiled at the small girl.

“Don’t worry, much of this will be covered in year seven of transfiguration and charms.”

“Okay.”

“Now back to the matter at hand. I think this is a wonderful proposal and had very high merit – aside from the actual locations. Can you point out on the map which of the closets I’ve marked would work well in replacement? Then I will propose this to Director Ingles in our next faculty meeting.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein everyone is skeptical of manufactured 90s boy bands, but not enough to dissuade Sara from liking them.

“All I’m asking for my birthday is for tickets to the Backstreet Boys concert.” Sara hefted her backpack onto her back. Her pale yellow polo that marked her as a year three student bunched up in the back and she struggled to fix it and keep pace with the other girls.

“That sounds boring. A boring muggle boy band and a boring muggle concert.” Nikky scoffed before grabbing the ends of Sara’s shirt and yanking down.

“Thanks.” Sara smiled.

“The Backstreet Boys aren’t boring.” Amanda glared at Nikky before turning around to walk backwards in front of them, “They’ve sold thousands of albums, HUNDREDS of thousands. The wireless even plays their music - even on the stations that aren’t just muggle music.”

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t boring.” Nikky countered, “You guys should really listen to some of the Beatles old stuff, or the Weird Sisters, or Dragon Fliers.”

“No one wants to listen to that old crap.” Sara rolled her eyes, “Besides you just like the Weird Sisters because the Hogwarts transfers do.”

“I do not! They’re awesome!” Nikky’s face started to pink and glance around, “What do you think Zahrai, don’t you think the Backstreet whatevers are way dumber than the Weird Sisters.”

“Uhh . . .” Zahrai looked around at the others, “I mean . . . I don’t really care? I only listen to music when you guys play it. It’s not that big of a deal?”

“Ugh, Zahrai. You are so deprived.” Nikky sighed, wrapping an arm around Zahrai’s shoulders.

“It’s fine. I read a lot at home, so music would just be distracting.” Zahrai adjusted her yellow hijab. She had just started wearing hijabs over the summer and she had to transfigure the color of her hijabs to match their uniforms. She’d probably have to re-do the colors next year when they had green shirts for year four.

“Still . . .” Amanda trailed off, “Look Sara, you talk some sense into her. Nikky and I have Language Arts next.” Taking Nikky’s free hand she dragged her friend away from Zahrai and down a side-path that lead from the math and arithmancy building back towards the language buildings and the main part of campus.

“Later!” Sara laughed and waved before turning to Zahrai. “I mean, I’m not judging you for not listening to a lot of music, but if you wanted to borrow my CDs I could always make a copy or something?”

“It’s fine. My sister is the one who really uses our stereo system so I wouldn’t get the chance anyway,” Zahrai deflected before starting to walk again. “Do you really think that Nikky only listens to the Weird Sisters because of the Hogwarts students?” In the past few years students from the United Kingdom had been had been coming to the academy - and several other magic schools in the States - to escape the brewing war with He Who Must Not Be Named. This year the Death Eaters had taken over the British magical government and so, the group of students who had transferred or simply begun school at the academy had jumped from three or four to ten or twelve - most of them were in the upper years and muggleborn.

“Ehhh. Maybe. She really didn’t listen to them too much before, I don’t think? Amanda really would know.” Sara shrugged. “But I suppose I would listen to the Weird Sisters if I could go on a date with Alec Bayliss.”

Zahrai laughed loudly and turned around to face Sara, her mouth was open to retort before her eyes grew large. Smacking her friend on the arm, she pointed behind them and hissed, “What. Is. THAT?”

“What is what?” Sara turned and the last word trailed off.

Behind them, crossing the path they had just walked up, was a trail of sparkles hanging around waist high in the air. Several of the objects winked in out of sight, others seemed to turn catching the reflection of the sun and flashing at irregular intervals, and yet others seemed to pulse - growing smaller and then bigger randomly.

“What is it?!” Zahrai hissed, shaking her friend’s arm insistently.

“I don’t know.” Sara took a step forward and ran a hand through the sparkles.

“What are you doing?!” Zahrai’s voice was so strangled, Sara thought it was a minor miracle she hadn’t fainted.

“You can’t feel anything. It’s like they’re an optical illusion.”

“Or _magic_. We’re only at a school for _magic_!”

“Oh come on, most sparkles from magic you can feel.” Sara rolled her eyes and tugged her arm back from Zahrai’s grip. “Let’s see where they go. They look like they’re coming from the greenhouses.”

“No!” Zahrai planted her feet firmly on the path leading towards the potions building. “We have potions next and Professor Cobb will kill us if we are late.”

“Aah, come on. We still have like five minutes.” Sara wheedled.

“We can come back after classes, there’s only potions and then astronomy.” Zahrai insisted.

“Ugh.” Sara looked longingly down the path and then at her watch. “Fine. You’re right. Come on.” She sighed, “Although whatever that was will be long gone by the time Professor Arnack is done droning on.”

“It’s amazing magic has lasted this long, what with your purebloods having no sense of self-preservation.” Zahrai muttered adjusting her backpack and hijab before tugging Sara down the path towards the potions building and away from the sparkles that still caught the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Hey, I resent that.”

“No, you represent that.” Smirking Zahrai looked back and her friend before winking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Zahari decides math and parties are the same level of annoying.

Zahrai glared at the paper before her and began furiously erasing the pencil marks. Why was math so difficult? It was essentially just arithmancy without the magic.

“Hey, Apu.” Sulema stretched out both words has she hung from Zahrai’s doorway with one hand.

“Hey, Sulema.” Zahrai didn’t look up from her math book, trying to figure out what step she had missed in her equation.

“Did Jared Davies invite you to his New Year’s Eve party?” Sulema asked as she swung herself back and forth.

“He did.” Zahrai’s voice was flat as she scribbled more numbers down in her notebook. She had only four more problems left and then her winter holidays’ algebra homework would be done.

“HE DID?!” Sulema’s voice made Zahrai wince before she was completely knocked off her chair by her sister. “Oh! OH MY GOD! Oh my god! What are you going to wear?! Who else do you think will be there?! Oh my god, can I go too?!”

“Get off.” Zahrai pushed and struggled against her younger, but now larger, sister. What injustice had she committed in a past life to get the short genes in the family? “Get OFF!”

“Sorry, sorry! Oh, but Apu, this is SO COOL!” Sulema cooed as she scrambled off her sister.

“I’m not going.” Zahrai sat upright and brushed her sleeves only to find herself pushed once again to the floor.

“What do you _mean_ you’re NOT GOING??!”

“I’m not going. None of my friends can make it. And there will probably be alcohol. And I have a ton of stuff to do to get ready for next semester.”

“You are no fun!” Sulema sat up releasing Zahrai’s shoulders but still sitting squarely on her stomach. "Everyone who is cool at the academy will be there. I bet there will even be some year sevens. Ohhh, maybe Hunter Brown will be there.”

“Who cares.” Zahrai pushed and rolled trying to get Sulema to budge, but clearly her involvement in the school newspaper and drama club were no match for Sulema. Her younger sister had also been blessed with magic and had started at Shenandoah Academy three years ago, she had also joined the hiking club, the cooking club, the fencing team, and the unofficial fan club for Hunter Brown – the sixth year who was a starting keeper on the school’s quidditch team and probably shoe in for prom king next year.

“ _I_ care!” Sulema said scandalized, “How can you _not_ care?” Sulema had always been prone to dramatics – more than Zahrai – but boys seemed to bring out her most dramatic tendencies.

“Because Hunter Brown is dumb. He’s nice and all, but he wouldn’t know the difference between nightshade and basil.”

“Take that back! You take that back right now!” Sulema turned red with indignation on Hunter’s behalf.

“GIRLS!!” Appu’s voice called from the first floor, “What is going on up there?!”

“Sulema wants to go to a party filled with boys!!” Zahrai yelled back feeling particularly vicious. She didn’t care about boys or the Academy’s social ladder or any of it really. She just wanted to finish her algebra homework so she could finish reading the new Animorphs novel.

“Sulema!”

“That’s not true!!” Sulema glared at Zahrai, who stuck her tongue out. “Apu is LYING.”

“Girls!” Amma had joined in, “Come down here right now. Stop fighting like children.” It was like Amma didn’t need magic to know when the two of them were up to no good. She’d taken having two magical children in stride and begun adding magical theory books to her nightly readings of medical journals. She and Ms. Page got along so well that the deputy director sometimes stopped by during the summer to have tea and chat – much to Zahrai and Sulema’s mutual horror.

“Fine. Fine.” Sulema finally got off of Zahrai and stomped her way downstairs. With one final look at her algebra homework Zahrai followed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the temptation to turn someone into a toad is almost too much.

Zahrai sighed and looked down at her cool tea. She was eighteen, she had graduated from the Shenandoah Academy for the Magically Gifted in May and she was starting college in the fall – a hybrid program that had her taking pre-med classes at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond and traditional healer courses at the National Institute of Healing in Washington, D.C. She was well on her way to being an adult. She was fully licensed to drive was well as practice magic without supervision.

She still wanted to turn her older cousin into a toad.

Glancing at Sulema’s face, Zahrai thought her sister might be thinking the same things; the toad things not the licensed or graduated or college things, Sulema still had two more years at Shenandoah.

“Oh, Sulema,” The cousin in question turned his sharp, not bulbous, not toady, eyes on the younger girl, “I heard you ran into a bit of trouble at school this year.”

“I-“ Sulema started, her face flushing, “It was-“

“Sulema got detention for standing up for someone who was being bullied.” Zahari said coolly, bypassing the part where Sulema had just abandon her wand and taken several hits to the bully’s face before someone had thought to stop her. “It was very heroic and quite justified. The bully was actually suspended.” Not that Sulema hadn’t gotten detention every Friday for the rest of the semester – starting in February.

“Ah, but resorting to violence, that seems a bit . . . crude.” Zahari wanted to resort to violence at that exact moment. Maybe turning him into toad was a bit too nice. She should turn him into lizard and send him to the Sahara. She took a breath through her nose, not the thoughts she’d spent all Ramadan cultivating and trying to put into practice.

“Sulema’s methods were not an overreaction. At any rate, I’m sure she’s thought about lots of ways she could have handled it differently between then and now.” Zahrai waved off her cousin with what she hoped was an unconcerned air. Sulema took her hand under the table and squeezed; Zahrai hadn’t actually ever told her sister she was proud that Sulema had stood up to Eli Acker, who’d spent the majority of his six years at Shenandoah trying to make everyone either miserable or his personal lackey. Zahari and her friends had all agreed that Eli deserved it and had gone out of their way to make sure everyone knew that Sulema was a hero – not that many people needed convincing. Actually, Zahari turned to Sulema and said, “Hunter Brown thought it was particularly impressive. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

Sulema looked shell shocked. “He . . . what?”

“Mmm. Come on, I think Omina’s playing Super Mario.” Zahari stood up from her seat at the table and tugged Sulema up after her, never letting go of her hand. The two wondered out of the dining room towards the family room, which though it was their aunt and uncle’s new house was easy to locate thanks to the large number of loud voices coming from that direction.

“Did Hunter really . . . really say I was impressive?” Sulema’s voice sounded scratchy.

“That’s what Nikky told me.” Zahari smiled at her sister over her shoulder. “Just don’t get too attached, Nikky’s pretty serious about locking that down.” Sulema laughed.

“I’m not just . . . that’s so cool.”

“Yeah, I suppose a pro-quidditch player finding you impressive is pretty cool.”

“Hey!” Omina’s voice rose over the ring of younger cousins who were all trying to wrestle her for the controller. “I’m older than you! You better listen to me! I’m not stopping yet!”

“But Omina-Apu!!” They all seemed to whine in chorus. Zahari could feel her eye twitch, maybe this wasn’t such a great escape after all. She might just turn someone into a toad anyway.


End file.
